


Core Programming

by naboru



Series: Blast Off/Vortex Advent Calendar [4]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Gen, Implied Relationships, M/M, dark themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-04
Updated: 2013-12-04
Packaged: 2018-01-03 11:36:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1070004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naboru/pseuds/naboru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vortex comes to see Blast Off and doesn’t find what he expected.</p>
<p>Blast Off, Vortex  / PG / gen, dark themes</p>
            </blockquote>





	Core Programming

**Author's Note:**

> **Continuity:** G1 (part of ultharkitty’s [Dysfunction AU](http://community.livejournal.com/lost_carcosa/19574.html#cutid1))  
>  **Warnings:** gen, dark themes  
>  **Characters:** Blast Off, Vortex   
> **Rating:** PG  
>  **Disclaimer:** Sadly, I own nothing.  
>  **Beta:** ultharkitty

Vortex broke into Blast Off’s room, and didn’t find what he’d expected.

He’d expected a sleeping shuttle, ready to be molested after a short stay in space. But instead he saw Blast Off sitting on his chair, an offline datapad in his hand, optics dimming, brightening, and occasionally flickering.

“Uh, sorry, the door button was… defective?” Vortex explained, and stopped his faked apology after the other didn’t react to his presence. Slowly, he stepped closer.

“Thrusters?” Vortex waved a hand in front of the parted visor.

Nothing happened.

“You even awake?” A frown built on Vortex’ face. Again there was no reaction or answer, and the ‘copter started to ponder calling Onslaught.

Vortex carefully edged even closer, leant down a little, and stared directly behind the other’s visor. The optics were unfocused, unmoving, and still flickering, dimming and brightening.

Creepy.

Slowly, Vortex’ arm came up to the shuttle’s shoulder where his index finger poked the dark plating. Touch almost always got a reaction from Blast Off, even when he was in recharge; he would tense, or his ailerons would twitch.

Not this time.

Vortex stared at the motionless frame, a sickly feeling building in his circuits. Then he flinched.

Vortex hadn’t expected anything specific, and certainly not Blast Off’s cooling fans coming online.

They whirled loudly in the quiet room, the sudden sound so surprising, Vortex jumped a step back.

The shuttle’s optics flickered a few times at a steady intensity, and the slumped form straightened.

“You broke into my room,” was the first thing Blast Off said, his voice even flatter than usual.

Vortex’ rotor blades stilled.

“Yeah, well, good thing I did. I was close to calling a medic! What happened?” It was better to change the topic quickly; Vortex wasn’t keen on being shot at. And he was curious, too.

“Nothing happened. I was calibrating some auxiliary programs.”

At that, Vortex stared even more, the shock entered his tone without conscious intent. “You tinkered with your core programming?”

“Yes.” Blast Off shrugged, continuing after a pause. “And no. It’s shuttle specific, hard to explain.” His optics dimmed once again, and remained on that setting while a hand came up to rub over his temple. “Needed to be done eventually.”

The uncharacteristic blankness of the voice, even for the usual flat tone of the shuttle, made Vortex almost shudder in trepidation. The voice... and the fact that Blast Off had manipulated his own core programming. Doing that was extremely dangerous. One was barely able to gain access to their own program, and a tiny mistake could fry someone’s circuits.

Vortex knew this from experience. Not experiences he made himself, just some he’d made others have. 

“But you’re still you, aren’t you?” the ‘copter asked, thoughtfully.

There was no huff or annoyed shaking of his head when Blast Off stood up. He merely said, “If you don’t leave immediately, I will shoot you.”

“Seems like it,” Vortex muttered, both discontented that he hadn’t got what he'd come for, and glad that he could go.

The door behind him closed, but the weird sensation of wrongness remained.

He allowed the next shiver to run down his back struts as he went down the hallway.

Blast Off sure had his own ways to be creepy.


End file.
